Before the History: Lies
by The Sterling Dragon
Summary: We all have a rather rebellious streak in us, however Norway finds out what happens when an act of rebellion goes too far and he is left to deal with the consequences. Naturally, the stubborn nation will try anything to hide his tracks. Though, for once, his lie doesn't end how he wants it to leaving him to the wrath of his father.
1. Chapter 1

Another Hetalia one-shot for you lovely people~

Once again I… don't own Hetalia… it's hard to believe, I know

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Three brothers lounged in tall, lush grass, a warm summer breeze tugging gently at their hair blond tips finding themselves entangled into thin blades of green that swayed like mini trees in the light wind. The battle scarred training field that lay hidden from view before them stirred up small dust devils of torn up grass and particles of sand. The three were shaded from the sun and her, for now, gentle hand by a large tree with smooth silver, peeling bark. Dappled sun peeking trough the covering of cool leaves offering shelter for the lazing teens. That was until a rather tall figure blocked out the sun waking the adolescents up in the process. "You can leave any time you want." Scandia looked down on his sons, an emotion akin to amusement saturating his bright eyes. This earned incoherent mumbling from Denmark as Sweden rolled over and cuffed his older brother to get him up. Sweden then staggered to his feet blinking a few times to try and shake off the warm feeling of grogginess. It had been a good day for training, but it was an even better day for being lazy.

Denmark sprinted past Sweden suddenly more awake than he'd been only a few seconds ago. "Come on Sve! You're so slow!" The Dane hollered over his shoulder as he snatched his broad sword from the ground whilst running. The blond nation stopped running when he realized that his younger brother wasn't following him, but rather walking calmly over to pick up his own sword and fasten the leather belt that threaded through the sheath around his waist. "You're such a stick in the mud." Denmark whined. It was then that both noticed that Norway wasn't with them to hit Denmark and call him an idiot. The both of them looked around and found him talking to their father. Though it looked more like a one-sided argument to Sweden more than anything. They shrugged, figuring it wasn't much, other then the fact that Norway had, somehow, managed to disappear for the past week and as a result missed a week of sparring. The two brothers ditched the youngest and made their way down the trail to their home.

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_Hetalia_

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"I told you, I was sick that day!" Norway snapped irately at his father, groping desperately for an excuse as to why he hadn't trained at all that week.

"Nice try, I already spoke with your mentor, she said you were fine, besides we had agreed that I would teach you this week. It's bad enough that you have to learn magic just to be able to fight, you don't need to be skipping out on this as well." Scandia retorted stubbornly, crossing his arms in front of his chest looking down at his youngest son with scrutiny lacing his blue gaze.

"You don't believe me." Norway snorted in disbelief.

"Why should I?" Scandia strode over to Norway's broadsword picking up the sheathed weapon with ease, turning back to the Norwegian he added, "After all you've tried to do similar things in the past. However if you insist that you weren't skipping then you can show me what you've learned in this past week." The older blond shoved the scabbard into his son's chest. "Without magic."

Norway stumbled backwards at the weight of his weapon came to rest in his arms. Grumbling, the young nation unsheathed the sharpened metal and slipped with ease into a fighting stance. Dark blue eyes watched his father's every movement. The taller man brought his battle-axe up in a sweeping arc his eyes lighting with an unreadable emotion as the two weapons met. The force of the blow was enough to make Norway's teeth rattle, his arms straining against the brunt impact of the axe against his broad sword. However, the young nation was unprepared for when his father shoved all of his weight against his weapon of choice. It was enough to send the younger blond into the dirt. The shorter nation landed heavily on his side skinning his arm in the process. Small bits of dirt lodged into the painful wound and tore mercilessly at Norway's tunic. Blood flooded his mouth when the Norwegian bit his tongue. Scandia sighed in disappointment and plunged his axe into the ground as Norway scrambled to prop himself up on his elbows, blood coating his inner forearm. His wrist throbbing from when he tried to catch himself when the earth decided that it wanted to give him a hug. Cursing Norway cradled his wrist close to his chest as he got up. It was his left arm that was injured too. That was a bad thing seeing as the blond was left-handed to begin with.

And the fight had only just begun.

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_Hetalia_

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Minutes dragged by like hours, and hours dragged on like days as Norway sparred with his father. He had managed to land a few good blows to his father's arms and torso, but it was nothing compared to what he had sustained. Blood. His blood ran in sticky streams in the intricate carvings of his father's battle-axe. Norway's tunic was shredded and stained a dark black with his blood from lacerations to his chest, deep gouges that made the tired nation light-headed and woozy. In a sloppy, desperate, move Norway raised his sword as high as his injuries would allow him to stab Scandia in the leg in a hope to hinder him. This move made the young nation's torso vulnerable. A fact that was as obvious as the difference of day and night to his father, then, with the pummel of his battle-axe Scandia struck his son and splintered the smaller blond's collarbone in two.

Norway's eyes widened a fraction as the blond reflexively dropped his sword a strangled cry of shock and pain dying in his throat and becoming a cough instead. Liquid streams of pain seeped through his shoulder and neck. It almost hurt him to pick up his sword again. It was already hard enough to use it with one hand, even if it was a single-handed broadsword to begin with. But his father wasn't done there.

The man grabbed the younger blond's sprained wrist- having thrown his battle-axe into the air- and pulled the Norwegian close to him, his fist connecting with Norway's ribs, sending a satisfying crackling sound rippling throughout the stagnant air. Scandia caught his axe and brought it down quickly, harshly, on Norway's back, the metal glancing off the protective bone of the adolescent male's shoulder blade. The ancient pulled away from the other blond who sunk to his knees a hand over his ribs. The Nordic tried to stand gingerly picking up his sword in the process, noting that the sun no longer shone on him with vibrancy as had been the case only a few hours ago, but had since gone into her faux set as accustomed to the summer months. Norway had made it to where he was kneeling on one knee, most of his weight supported on his sword, until his body betrayed his exhaustion and the nation collapsed, panting, to the ground. The adolescent's father watched him a slightly shocked look on his countenance as his icy gaze observed his son's persistence. The ancient quickly closed his eyes so the younger of the two wouldn't see his expression of concern as he exhaled through his nose in an attempt to control his emotions. "I take it you've had enough?" He asked. No response.

Scandia stepped forward hiding curiosity that shadowed his stance to find that Norway had passed out. Whether it was from blood loss, exhaustion, or both, the larger blond didn't care. He limped to the edge of the meadow and stooped down to pick up the scabbard for the Norwegian teen's sword. The older male then stood to his full height, wincing slightly at the torn and pulled muscles in his back, as he turned walking back to the collapsed teen. The ancient kneeled and picked up his son's sword, sheathing it and slinging it over his shoulder and slipping his axe into his belt the ancient turned towards the smaller blond.

Furrowing his brow the thought crossed his mind of how to get the Norwegian home. It wasn't like he'd be walking any time soon, and Scandia was _not_ going to carry him. Maybe he could drag the small nation? No… that would probably invoke the wrath of his mentor, even if all Scandia did was tune her out after a while, it was annoying when she refused to treat him when she found out that he didn't listen to her… Then there was the option of leaving him there… no, that wouldn't work either, because then Sweden and Denmark would look for him. That left him with no choice.

Huffing, Scandia sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. It seemed that he would be stuck carrying the runt. So, with much hesitation, the ancient knelt next to his son to pick him up, bridal style, (after making sure that Norway was out cold, of course) as to not agitate any of his wounds. Scandia crossed Norway's arms and supported the young nation's back with one arm while he supported the back of teen's legs with the other. He stood at his full height, stiffening when the Norwegian stirred opening glazed eyes at the feeling of being further away from the earth. That tense moment didn't last long and Scandia let out a sigh of relief when the adolescent fell limp against his father's chest. It was only when the ancient was reassured that the younger blond wouldn't wake up that Scandia began making his way through the field leaving the battle-scarred earth behind.

Not long after springy grass changed to the hard packed earth of a well-worn path had an epiphany struck the blond man metaphorically upside the head. When he returned his son's mentor would have his hide when she saw the young Norwegian. After all, it was a well-known fact that mending bones was her pet peeve.

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So what do you guys think? Like it? Hate it? Want more? Please leave a comment to tell me what you like, I'd love to hear from you~ ^^


	2. Chapter 2

Here is the next chapter of Before the History: Lies~ After all you people said you wanted more and seeing as I listen to my reviewers more it is~

As always I down own Hetalia… or do I?

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Scandia had made it a ways down the path when _it _happened. Now the ancient had made sure that his son had been completely unconscious _before_ he had picked him up and put his reputation on the line. Now it seemed that the fates had decided to torture him. Dark blue eyes, unfocused and dazed with sleep and pain opened unable to make anything out in their delirious haze. Norway had woken up. Correction. Norway had woken up _while_ Scandia was still holding him. The now thoroughly humiliated ancient then proceeded to almost drop the young Norwegian that he was holding.

Instinctively Norway wrapped his arms around his father's neck to try to keep him self from getting another hug from the earth. That was when he had reawakened his pain from the injuries that he had sustained. A strangled cry of pain left his throat as the adolescent began to tremble slightly. Needless to say Scandia was clueless on what to do, until he realized that he wasn't helping the situation at all by the pressure that he had been putting on Norway's wounded shoulder when he had almost dropped said Norwegian out of shock. Awkwardly the ancient moved his hand from the wound, glancing down to find a thin layer of blood coating his palm. Scandia grimaced and started to walk again telling Norway that he was dreaming and that none of what was currently happening was real. He was really hoping that would work and that his son was in too much pain to remember much after all was said and done.

The tension didn't leave the older blond's shoulders until Norway stopped attempting to strangle him and opted to let his head fall limply against his father's chest instead. Thankfully the young nation was probably too tired to wake up again until Scandia reached his house. Though, it seemed that the fates were willing to give the blond ancient that much of a break.

On the other hand, both of his older sons and Saga were outside enjoying the nice day. Sweden and Denmark were wrestling, with Denmark getting a run for his money as Sweden used his grater weight to pin his brother. Saga, Norway's mentor, watched the two boys from her spot where she leaned against the house having decided that the rare time for her to socialize with the family had come around again. Scandia inwardly groaned. The wise woman would have a cow when she saw the state of her apprentice. He made it to her, only just making eye contact with her, and yet not catching the attention of his sons with his presence, before she turned and lead him into his house.

Scandia unceremoniously put Norway down, his features betraying a disgusted look when his youngest son whimpered in discomfort. Saga then shouldered him out of her way. "Do you want to kill him?" She snapped. "He is your own son and my apprentice you automatically do this without thinking or asking me about his punishment?!"

Kneeling by the small nation's side the young woman's hand ghosted over Norway's wounds, her palm, glowing a soft green hue, highlighted the surrounding dark area of the room. With the only other light source being the door it was understandably hard to see so the young burnet woman flicked her wrist over by the fire pit and with a resonating snap a roaring, flickering fire lit the room, giving her enough light to see by. Scandia cleared his throat having moved to the door, prepared to leave. "Where do you think you're going?" Saga called over her shoulder as she cut open Norway's bloodied tunic before ripping the stuck fibers from where they had adhered to his lesser wounds as the blood clotted gluing the fabric to the blond adolescent's skin.

"I was just going to tell Sweden and Denmark that I was back. You can heal my wounds later." Scandia finished arrogantly. The next thing he knew was that the door had suddenly sprouted a dagger.

"Leave and I'll skin you 'live." Saga snapped, insulted, her temper getting the better of her before, after muttering some very colorful words, she decided in getting up to pull the dagger from the door keeping her scathing marine gaze on Scandia who put his hands up in defense. "Besides, whoever said that I would heal _you_?" She added as she walked away to get a bowl and fill it with water, grabbing a rag, bandages, thread, and a needle before moving back to Norway. The ancient sighed and looked out once more at his older sons who had grown bored of wrestling and gone back to lazing around in the grass, their chores done for the day.

Reluctantly Scandia moved back to Norway's side to cross his arms and look down at the young blond as his mentor used her abilities in magic to fix his son's broken collarbone. Saga sighed in exasperation and started to clean the dirt from his skinned arm and the lacerations on his chest and back. "Well, don't just stand there." She stated bluntly not looking up from her work. The ancient walked over to shadow the young woman as she worked. Scandia watched with some amount of amusement as his son relaxed under the care of his mentor. It was almost laughable to the ancient, really, what was she to him?

Saga stood having finished bandaging her apprentice and turned to Scandia, who seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. "I am his mentor, and I don't physically abuse him every chance I get." And with that the burnet strode to the door before adding onto her statement, "You know, if you get to know him you'd find that he's a pretty good kid." The wise woman left the father and son on that note. Scandia stared after her a shocked look on his face before he folded his arms and looked down on the peacefully sleeping form of his son. Why would he want to build a relationship with a son that was so pathetically weak anyway?

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What did you guys think? Good, bad, want more? Liked the characterization? Leave a comment and tell me~ ^^ I won't bite, I promise!


	3. Chapter 3

Do you know what time it is? It's time to shred what little pride Scandia ever had~!

Of course I _don't _own Hetalia~

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Norway moaned in discomfort as he blinked into consciousness. Confused blue eyes opened heavy with pain and exhaustion. The ground was… softer than what he remembered it being. He attempted to support his weight on his elbows only to find himself feeling light headed as agony throbbed through his body protesting against his desire to sit up. So the nation decided to lie back down, wincing at his sprained wrist. It was around that time that the young Viking noticed that his mentor was sitting beside him. Did that mean that he was at her house? How did he get there? The thoughts buzzed in his mind, only to be put to rest when the burnet woman spoke. "You're at home, your father carried you back." Norway vaguely heard the sound of choking and sputtering in the background. The slight smirk on his mentor's countenance gave away who it was.

This was new information. Did this mean that his strange dream wasn't a dream? Norway settled for numbly nodding and closing his eyes, his body feeling sore and tired. One could say that he had learned his lesson, but that would probably only last until he was better and then he would be back on his father's bad side. Then again, the blond was positive that his father didn't have any other side to him to begin with. Naturally the nation was so tired that he didn't remember falling asleep, so he didn't hear the argument that happened all too soon after he closed his eyes.

"W-what? Why? I didn't want him to know about that!" Scandia sputtered, hoping that he had just heard wrong. He could have sworn that Saga had just told his son what had actually happened and how he had ended up back at his house. The ancient was just watched by a set of bemused marine eyes that were obviously enjoying the way he squirmed.

"Well, seeing as you not only insulted me, but you don't seem to even care about his wellbeing I thought I'd help you dispose of what little pride you have to begin with." Saga stated matter-of-factly. That was the end of an argument that Scandia would not be able to continue (or win) seeing as his two uninjured sons decided that they would come inside and sleep there instead. They were completely unfazed by the normally uncommon sight of the wise woman seeing as her visits had been rather frequent in the past day since Norway had been hurt. Especially seeing as she was the only one of the people there that knew what she was doing and it wasn't like Scandia would even try to heal his youngest son. That left the work up to the young woman who already had enough on her plate in dealing with Scandia and Denmark's new 'game'.

This game took advantage of the fact that both father and son looked _almost exactly alike_. It served its purpose on brushing the young woman's metaphorical fur the wrong way. But, let's forget about that for now and head back to the story.

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_Hetalia_

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It had gotten later and Saga had left the family to go back into her voluntary isolation. Norway's brothers and father had fallen asleep when the young Norwegian- plagued by confusing thoughts- warily opened his dark eyes. Had his father, the same man that hated him, who hurt him, ignored him, and practically disowned him, really carried him home? He went back to analyzing his dream. He had felt pain, when his father almost dropped him. Did that mean it was real? No. It couldn't. Norway shook his head a little bit to clear his mind, throat knotting slightly. He was already in pain, and he could have been having a feverish dream out of his tired and agonized state. Yes. That's what had to have happened. The nation attempted to curl up on his side, only to flinch at the pain in his ribs in back with the unwelcome movement, a slightly rejected emotion shadowing his cold heart. What was it about him that his own father didn't want to associate himself with the young Viking? If he remembered correctly their relationship didn't use to be this strained. He snorted in amusement. This was all wishful thinking. Yes. That's what it was, just wishful thinking on his part. Norway brushed his hand over his bandaged forearm to the splint that kept his wrist immobile. There was no way that, that dream was reality. Right?

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So, what do you guys think? Will Nor find out if that 'dream' was reality? Will Scandia stop being mean to Nor? Does aforementioned Ancient even have any pride left?

Reviews are always welcome~


	4. Chapter 4

Another Chapter of lies for you lovely people ^^

Remember I don't own Hetalia T_T

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Norway awoke to the next morning in a feverish daze. The young blond opened tired blue eyes moaning in discomfort. He tried to get up once again only to have the same results as yesterday. Only there was one main difference. His mentor was not with him, in face he had woken up alone. The Norwegian blinked in confusion as he tried to lie back down, his stiff and sore muscles screaming. Why was he so disappointed that his mentor wasn't there? They didn't exactly have the best of relations seeing as they fought quite often. It didn't make any sense. Norway closed his eyes, he was too tired to keep them open, and he didn't feel well. The small nation's head was throbbing painfully, the room felt like it was too hot, but he was shivering, and he'd just gotten the beating from his father two days ago that had put him in this situation.

The door banged on its hinges at it was carelessly thrown open. Norway winced. The sound of heavy footfalls entered the house. A presence made itself known to the young male by his side. It didn't take a genius to tell the blond that his eldest brother was by him. Denmark spoke, his voice low, "Shouldn't he be better by now? You said it wasn't bad." Norway opened an eye trying to make out the figure that Denmark was talking to without making it known that he was awake.

"It wasn't." Norway grimaced inwardly. Scandia. Of course. Of all people he didn't want to see at the moment it just had to be Scandia _and _Denmark. "I didn't even try to fight with him to begin with. He had learned nothing and lost. Don't let his weakness worry you too much." Scandia continued, a disgusted tone entering his voice. The youngest occupant of the room felt his heart clench ever so slightly. Why couldn't he do anything right in his father's eyes? Why did he even try? Why did he feel so… rejected?

Sharp coughing broke the silence that had enveloped the house. His father and brother having almost made it out the door before turning back to the young nation's shaking form. "Nor?" Denmark tilted his head. His little brother's cough didn't sound good. At all. The Dane looked up at his father pleadingly causing the mad to sigh in exasperation.

"Fine. You can go get Saga." The older blond stated reluctantly watching as his eldest son sprinted out of the house, an almost desperate emotion shadowing the Danish Viking's gaze. Scandia turned back to Norway. "This is some pathetic cry for attention on your part. You're probably completely healed and are too afraid to go back to training." The ancient looked down disbelievingly at his son. Norway's glazed blue eyes widened slightly at the accusation.

"T-That's not true." The young Nordic managed to rasp irately at his father. Scandia scoffed, crossing his arms as he looked away. What Norway didn't know was that his father was hiding concern at the gravel-like sound of his youngest son's voice. The older blond drew his lips back in frustration. Why should he care of the fate of the Norwegian, wasn't he Saga's problem now? His thoughts began to wonder and the ancient started to remember of simpler times when their relation wasn't so strained. What had made that change? Oh, yeah… he had almost severed his son's arm. That's what did it. He remembered a time when the young nation to whom his back was turned to would curl beside his father on long, cold, winter nights to hear the story of his childhood. Scandia felt his gaze soften; thanking the fact that he was currently staring at a wall, and not his son.

Hoarse coughing dragged the man from his nostalgic thoughts as he turned to see, Norway attempting to sit up practically coughing up his lungs. The ancient hesitated, not really knowing what to do. Maybe it was a bad thing that he had sent Denmark to get Saga. After all the Dane had put up with Norway when he had been sick before. The man cautiously approached his youngest son, and guided him into a sitting position situating him self so the young Norwegian rested against him.

Norway blindly clung to his father, not comprehending exactly what was going on, for in his mind it was Denmark who was with him and not his father. The young blond froze when he felt copper enter his mouth. Apparently 'Denmark' noticed as well. Norway felt his 'brother' pull his hand away from his mouth to find blood in the palm of his hand.

Scandia cursed under his breath, and for once in his life he couldn't wait until the short-tempered wise woman arrived.

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So… what do you think? Like it? Love it? Hate it? Want more?

Will Nor's questions be answered? Why does he feel rejected around his father? Why is he disappointed that his mentor isn't there? Tell me what you think~ I'm happy to hear any thoughts you have~


	5. Chapter 5

MORE FAMILY FLUFF :D

…but I still don't own Hetalia T_T

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Scandia grumbled to himself when he saw the small amount of blood that coated the palm of his son's hand. The ancient knew, even if he wasn't well versed in medicine, that coughing blood was a bad thing. However, he was in too much shock to do anything other than let his son struggle to breath on his own. It wasn't like he could do anything to begin with. Especially with Nor in the state that he was currently in. The older blond sighed. He had really screwed up this time, hadn't he? Well, now he was stuck here with this pathetic excuse of a son and he didn't even know what to do. Scandia looked down on Norway, the young nation having already stopped coughing and opting instead to try and regain the ability to breathe. The small blond's breaths were coming in short gasps that much resembled the motion of him hyperventilating. That left Scandia with a choice. Sacrifice his pride and comfort his son, or just be a bystander. The ancient gritted his teeth and clenched his fist before figuring that the young nation probably wouldn't remember most of this anyway. Awkwardly the older blond placed a hand on his son's back, flinching when the younger of the two subconsciously pressed closer to him finding solace. Not long after Scandia noticed his son's breathing slow into the steady- yet raspy pattern of sleep. That left one question. Where was Saga anyway?

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_Hetalia_

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Denmark had sprinted all the way to Saga's house at the far end of their property only, much to his disbelief, that the wise woman wasn't there. A cry of panic left the Dane's throat at his discovery. His brother was sick this one time and his mentor wasn't there for him?! Wasn't she supposed to heal people? Where was she? Of course his questions were answered when he turned around, after hearing someone clear their throat behind him. Denmark winced at the sight of the burnet in question. Oh, was he in trouble now. She was mad, that much was evident in her eyes. "And what do you think you're doing in my house?" She snapped at the young Dane making him yelp in alarm.

This had the blond reeling for a reason as to why he was breaking and entering. "U-um…" was all he could manage. 'Well, that was stupid.' The Viking thought, grimacing.

"Well, what is it?" Saga responded, obviously not in the mood for pleasantries.

"Norway's sick?" That made the blond mentally face palm when his statement came out more like a question than a true statement. However, Saga got the message.

She sighed. "Who's with him right now?"

"_Far."_ Denmark stated sheepishly making the young woman in front of him blink, taken aback. But that didn't stop a part of her from wanting to force Scandia into taking care of Norway. It would do the two some good, but she had to take care of her apprentice. So, she settled for walking-grant it she was walking fast- to the Vikings' home.

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_Hetalia_

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Norway coughed in his sleep as sickness wracked his weakened frame with fever and exhaustion threatening to consume the small Norwegian in a violent haze.

_A small blond child scrambled into the rather large house, his older brothers hot on his heels, desperate to get to the rather large fire that lit up their home. Their father had left them to spar outside in what little light that there was until it was dark. That had the three of them running through snow that went up to Norway's waist to get back to the house before anything attacked them._

_After the three had warmed up from being outside in the chilly weather Norway had managed to isolate his father away from Denmark and Sweden to curl up beside his side. The blond lazily rested his head against Scandia's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as it and the fire both lulled him into a sleepy daze. Yawning the young boy looked up at the older blond, the bright oranges from the fire dancing off of the surface of his eyes. "Dad?" Scandia glanced down at his youngest son curiously waiting for the Norwegian to continue. "What was it like when you were younger?" The ancient smirked. It was so much like his youngest to ask questions like these, he was always so curious. It was a trait that was shared between his three sons. Scandia thought for a moment before beginning his story…_

_Norway let his eyes close towards the end of the story, eventually falling asleep with a safe feeling draped around him like a blanket. It wasn't that long after he had started to drift off to sleep had the nation been startled away by the burning scent of wood smoke and the overbearing heat of a fire. Norway coughed, his chest clenching with the sudden inability to breath. The blond desperately tried to look around in the smoke that lapped at the walls of his home. Figuring that his family had woken him up the nation turned to see that they were lying dead on the floor. Liquid flame ate away at their corpses scaring the young boy with the sight of his family. Fear consumed Norway when, with each breath he took, it occurred to him that he was slowly suffocating as well. He couldn't find the door. He couldn't breath. Hacking filled his ears, his name was seemingly being repeated to him on a continuous loop as the world spun._

The Norwegian was forced back into reality with a strangled cry of anguish. Ignoring his injures the nation clung desperately to his 'brother' the image of his family's burning corpses fresh in his mind. It had felt so real. It was just too much for him to take at the moment, he needed to hide from the world, even if it was only until his father came back. Even if said man was the one that Norway thought was his brother.

Needless to say, when the young blond had turned and hid his face in Scandia's chest, sobbing quietly, the ancient had absolutely no idea as to what it was that he should do. This left him panicking slightly, fighting the urge to jump up and leave his son. But it wasn't like that would be happening any time soon seeing as the younger blond was clinging to him as if he were the young nation's lifeline. Thankfully- or not, after all it really depends on who you are- Saga chose that exact moment to briskly walk into the house. She was snapping over her shoulder at Denmark to wait outside. But the burnet stopped short taking in the scene with an eyebrow raised in the utmost bemusement. "I leave you for a day and _this _happens?" the young woman asked curtly pinching the bridge of her nose obviously feeling a migraine surfacing.

It was going to be a long day… and it wasn't even noon…

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What do you think? Like it? Hate it? Want more? Tell me what you liked about this chapter, I'm always happy to hear from you guys~ You can even review Anonymously ^^ I don't mind


	6. Chapter 6

Two chapters in less than 24 hours? Yeah, it happened~

But I don't own Hetalia T_T

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Norway was shaking uncontrollably. His breathing was ragged as the young nation's nightmare replayed over and over inside his head growing more and more gruesome with each passing second. A strangled sob escaped him only just barely getting turned into a cough at the last second. He did what little he could to preserve his shattered pride. The blond clung to his 'brother' desperately, terrified of letting go, even when he heard his mentor's voice snapping at Denmark to… stay…outside… If it wasn't Denmark with him… then who was it? Norway's breathing hitched as he thought of the only other person it could be seeing as it was only Denmark and… and… the blond suppressed a cry of anguish as he realized he had just broken down in front of his father. Frustrated tears replaced his fear. The young nation tried so hard to have his father accept him like he used to, only to throw it away with all of… all of… _this_!

He regretted not training for a week. He regretted being so weak. He regretted… being born. Reflexively the young nation clung to his father desperately trying to shake his unwanted thoughts off. It was too much, and he didn't feel well, and his entire body hurt and he was tired. But he tried to ignore it. After all he was already enough of a failure in his father's eyes.

Scandia held Saga's gaze as she stared blankly at him almost as if she was waiting for something. It took the ancient a moment to realize what it was exactly that she wanted to hear. Well, it helped when Norway gave a low whimper of pain. It was something that caused Scandia to quickly look down and move his hand away from the deep gouge in his son's shoulder. Scandia gritted his teeth, sighing in frustration and flinching when Norway shrunk away from him. "Fine." Scandia snapped. "You told me so."

"Now what did I tell you?" The wise woman asked, enjoying the moment much more than what was probably necessary.

Scandia responded through gritted teeth, "That he still sees me as his father, and I still see him as my son even after all I've done to him to make him hate me. Happy?" Well, there went the last of his pride.

"Very. Now lay him down. Gently." The burnet woman stated flatly putting stress on the 'gentle' part. This elicited a sheepish grin from the older blond.

"Um… I can't?"

"What do you mean 'I can't?' Just lay him down." Saga said exasperatedly not understanding. She sighed realizing that the ancient's 'precious pride' was at stake. Then there was also the fact that Norway had finally realized who was holding him. Yes she knew. After all she had seen the Norwegian's body language shift from fear to shame. So she decided that it would be in her apprentice's best interest to heal him, as he was, to alleviate some of his stress. She walked over and sat on the other side of the young blond, placing a glowing hand in between his shoulder blades. She would heal him of his sickness and force him to fall into a dreamless sleep. It was the nicest thing to do for the boy.

Norway gradually began to relax as the burnet healed him. The small nation's breathing became more and more even as he released his strangle hold on his father. Instead, he chose to subconsciously lean against his father as the feeling of drowsiness washed over him. The green light in his mentor's hand faded as she got up to leave. "Where are you going?" Scandia asked incredulously. "You're the one who knows about medicine, not me!"

Saga just gave him a dark look in reply. However as she made for the door she gave a verbal response to his question. "I'm leaving. You should be able to take care of him from here on out. Just change his bandages regularly and make sure that his lacerations don't get infected. It's simple."

"You're his mentor." Scandia countered.

"True, but you're his father."

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What do you guys think? What did you like about this chapter?

Should I end the story here?


	7. Chapter 7

Another Chapter for Lies~ The next one will be the last~

Once again I- as unbelievable as it may sound- Don't own Hetalia

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Scandia's gaze shifted down to the young boy that he held in his arms. The words that his son's mentor had just spoken to him now rang in his ears. 'You're his father.' He scoffed. It was pathetic really, the brat probably didn't even think of him as his father anymore. A soft whimper jolted the older blond from his thoughts. He looked down to find the Norwegian in question had pressed closer to his father much in the manor of a small child. Maybe the ancient had spoken too soon.

_Hetalia_

The days passed at a snail's pace for Norway. He couldn't get out of that house fast enough. Especially with his father dealing with him. Well, okay it was mostly Denmark who dealt with him seeing as his father didn't want to stoop so low to the point of taking care of the 'pathetic runt.' It was all too soon that the young nation's wounds had healed enough that he was able to venture out on his own and confront his father on what had happened that day. The day that had caused all of these dormant emotions, emotions that had lain so still since his childhood, to stir from this defiant action. The small nation had made it, half limping, to the battle scarred training field when he actually thought about his plan of attack. He hadn't really thought about what it was that had possessed him to attempt such a feat. After all it was sort of common knowledge that he and his father didn't get along well at all. Okay, it was only common knowledge if you people had bothered to read the past six chapters but the narrator digresses back to the story at hand.

As a matter of fact the young nation didn't even know if his father was even actually at the… never mind. He was there. There was no mistaking it. Norway hung back in the shadows to hide himself from his father until he walked by. He didn't have to wait long before his chance came and Sweden and Denmark, followed closely by their father walked by his hiding place. Norway's two elder brothers were oblivious to the fact that he had slipped out behind them and they continued on walking. His father on the other hand… not so much. The ancient stopped, having felt that he was being followed, not even having to turn around the blond haired man spoke, "What is it Norway?" Naturally this was almost enough to make the young Norwegian's blood metaphorically boil. Why did his father always sound so short-tempered with him?

Deciding that it was now or never Norway took his chances and asked his question, walking up to his father his stride faltering only slightly giving way to his already crumbling resolve. He really didn't want to face his father, but he had too many questions to ignore them all. "Saga said you carried me back that day… is that… true?" The younger blond asked warily, a part of him hoping that it was true and that his father had a least a little bit of concern over his well being.

"It was a dream." Scandia snapped a little too soon. That made that little spark of hope wither and die in Norway's heart. The young Nordic didn't know why he had expected that much from his father but he did and now look at what had happened.

Time to change tactics. "Oh…" It was all the younger of the two could manage. Clearing his throat the Norwegian Viking prepared to ask another question, "Dad, I-" A look of horror at what he had just said passed over his dark eyes, his father stopping dead in his tracks. No doubt the ancient was as shocked as his youngest son was. After all he had just called his father 'Dad' he hadn't called Scandia that since he was a small child. Norway's throat tightened. How would his father react to that? Well, I guess he was about to find out, now wasn't he?

"What." Scandia snapped, though something about it seemed a little half-hearted. "Did you just call me?" The ancient finished his question with what looked suspiciously like a smirk tugged at the corners on the older blond's mouth.

So his suspicions had been correct. Though, Scandia had to admit that it was a good thing that his back was to his son, after all he didn't want Norway knowing how much he really cared about him. His son was supposed to hate him. Luckily Norway took his question as an attack and treated it as such.

"Do you have a problem with that? I just want to know what happened!" The blond nation snapped at his father. A poor decision on his part.

"I told you that it was a dream!" Scandia roared suddenly having lost his fragile temper at his son's disrespectful tone, lashing out at Norway in the heat of the moment. He managed to land a back-handed blow across his youngest son's mouth with enough force to cause Norway to spit blood from where his molars had cut into his cheek.

Shivering from the brunt of the impact Norway turned to his father, scathing cold, dark blue eyes locking with Scandia's bright ones. Without thinking Norway retaliated.

"I _hate _you."

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I know, I know. It might seem dramatic but remember that there is a whole plethora of not-so-fun stuff going on in Norway's mind right now. SO that being said… Like it? Hate it? Love it? Leave a review and tell me what you like~

And If you like this story take a look at my other stories, such as: History Rewritten: Nordic Style!, Before the History: Days of Fire, Fires of Lindisfarne, and Before the History: Are you Worthy? They all are in the same 'Viking era' and pretty much piggy-back on one another With all of the Before the History being set before History Rewritten (Which is a Historical!Hetalia Fanfic just to let you know)

^ And that is what is known as shameless advertising T_T


	8. Chapter 8

The final chapter of Lies, this was so much fun to write and I just want to say thank you to everyone who follows, liked, and reviewed this story. It will be sad to see it end but such is life I suppose…

As always I don't own Hetalia. But if I did there would be… (insert change here)

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Scandia bit his tongue. It had hurt him more to hear Norway say those words than he expected. He felt… disappointed? But before he could stop himself he countered, "I hope you do, because the feeling is mutual you pathetic brat." Scandia snapped as he turned and walked away, effectively ending the conversation. He tried to push what he said to the back of his conscious. It was better that Norway hated and feared him. After all he didn't _want_ a son that was so weak anyway. That was his last thought before he was suddenly knocked off his feet by a rather large piece of earth that was sent flying into the ancient's back by none other than his own disowned son.

Norway stood a few paces back, his anger dripping away from his slight frame like blood on a leaf. Undertones of horror lit his dark eyes as he surveyed his work. A rather large fissure lead down the path before it fell away into a hole that was about five feet in diameter and six feet deep. The earth had dispersed when the chunk of ground had hit a sunken rock and broken into a shower of compact partials that were obviously large enough to knock a full grown Viking off of his feet. The young Norwegian had no idea if he wanted to run away and not look back until he reached the safety of his home, or it he wanted to make sure that he father was at least all right. Against his better judgment the small nation slunk over to his father's side only to find his father's hand closed around his windpipe as soon as he kneeled by his side. The ancient shakily stood, pulling the smaller, struggling blond several inches off of the ground in the process. Breathing heavily Scandia slammed his son into the trunk of a large maple eliciting a tortured scream from the younger of the two when the force of the impact and the texture of the bark opened the painful gouge on is back.

The younger blond found himself both gasping for breath and keeping tears out of pain out of his eyes. Even with his desperate attempts it didn't stop them from looking glassy. "I guess that proves that I can't turn my back on you." Scandia snarled before Norway managed to kick his father in the stomach with enough force to make the ancient reel backwards, dropping the nation in the process. Norway fell back against the tree and hitting his head in the process rendering him unconscious. Scandia huffed in annoyance and this time, instead of carrying the small nation he turned and walked away. The only things that gave away that the small blond had not fallen asleep peacefully against the tree was the large red streak of blood that marked his decent and the marks around his throat.

_Hetalia_

Scandia beat his fist harshly against the wood of his son's mentor's door. It was like she was purposefully avoiding him, like he knew why! That-that… she was so difficult and foul-tempered and… the realization dawned on the ancient so _that's_ who Norway got his temper from. He was so caught up in this realization that he never realized the door open and the young woman who then proceeded to stare at him for a good half-minute with a bemused expression on her face. "Are you going to stand there like an idiot all day or are you going to tell me why you came to pester me today?"

'Yep. Norway had picked up a few of _her _personality traits.' Scandia thought to himself before he realized something else. He had no idea how he was going to explain that Norway was hurt and that he didn't see the need to carry his currently defenseless son back. But apparently his expression explained everything to the young woman who sighed in exasperation. "Again? Scandia it's only been a few days." Saga then narrowed her marine eyes glaring up at the man before her. "And you left him didn't you?"

"Well, I-"

"You idiot! Go back and get him," At this Scandia gave the burnet a look that said 'why don't you get him yourself?' Naturally Saga came up with a very logic reason, "Because, if you haven't noticed, I can't carry him without almost killing myself." And seeing as he couldn't come up with a good comeback the ancient turned on his heel and stalked off, grumbling about his wounded pride. It was then that he stopped suddenly.

"Saga." Scandia called over his shoulder catching the young woman's attention. "I want him to have an increased amount of training starting tomorrow." And with that Scandia left, not even looking back on the currently fuming wise woman that stood in the doorway.

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_Hetalia_

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Scandia returned to where he had left his son to find Norway attempting to stand. The small nation spun around to face his father only to trip over a tree root and fall sideways back against the tree. "Stop lazing around and get up." Scandia snapped at his son only to receive a glare in response. "Norway." The ancient said in a clipped tone. Norway stubbornly turned away from his father, the back of his tunic coated with blood as the fibers absorbed the red liquid making the stain appear bigger than it probably was. The older blond sighed and figured that since his pride was all but dead now that he would wound his son's. That said Scandia scooped Norway up one arm supporting his son's back the other supporting his legs.

The Norwegian was silent for a moment before he snapped, "Put me down!" the young nation tried to shove himself away from his father only for the ancient to pretend to drop him. Norway instinctively wrapped his arms around his father's neck in a strangle hold. After a few moments Norway realized what it was exactly that he was doing and he released his strangle hold on his father only to try pushing away from the ancient.

After a while of this Scandia became irritated with his son's struggling and instead of holding him the ancient pinned him against his chest. Norway grumbled to himself at this new turn of events… Norway finally decided to give up struggling for now seeing as he couldn't move and… he was feeling strangely… sleepy. The blond brushed it off as blood loss and tried to stay awake pulling all of his attention to watching as the trees moved by at a slow clip, but that only made things worse. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a little bit then this torture would be over with…

Scandia froze when he felt Norway go limp in his arms. At first he thought that he was holding the young blond too tight and had rendered him unconscious. That was until he remembered that the nation was bleeding and he brushed it off as blood loss. Thankfully for the ancient his son didn't wake up for the rest of the walk back to the home of his son's mentor.

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_Hetalia_

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The next time Norway awoke he found himself in a familiar bed. Norway's throat tightened when he realized that he was at his mentor's house. His father didn't even care about him enough to take him home… Norway was disrupted by his thoughts when the burnet who owned the house came into his line of sight. "Good, you're up. Your father want's to start training with you immediately, you'll be training twice as long and I have no idea how long it'll last." She said looking her apprentice over looking displeased with the fact that he wasn't even healed yet and he was being forced to train. Norway glared at the door. Well, he was back to square one again.

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The End

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And this is the first multi-chapter story I have ever finished~! I feel so accomplished! If you liked this story then take a look at my other ones, you might like them as well~ ^^ Don't worry though, I'll definitely be doing more exploration on this family for sure! Please review and tell me what you liked/ didn't like about this story! Also tell me any theories you may have about any characters, I'd love to hear them, I promise I wont bite~! ^^


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